The Georgia journal. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1809-1847, June 11, 1844, Image 1

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Newspaper Page Texti THWIilVi r lorro* in MomiTCl. yMd 1101,1,AM ren ANNUM, IN ADVARCKi jJ/Q5tT»5!uM AT TIIM MND OT TUK VICAR. ,IHS. n»»lwSf«rlM»U«» * im,Mi «ilU»« -.kits (AttM* ■rMito&MarxraAnaniiTea. iTeMKNTA utlaml^tinMUi par aaaita ft r ika - anemia aaraaiaarafor aaali 1—arUwilliaraaftar. A UU« apacaaftaallaailu amatl type,couutaiur« S%*ClaaaftAND,W|r AAaliaUlra»ora,B«a«MQra, or Ouar- IT! !j'JialAS.V»»»'.»* k * R»M ®» ”•• (rat TuoaA.y >« Ih. a*Ika ko»H ofl.n l» Ika fnraaooa a«a thmaia ika al. ,i,k t ooaH.koaaa, la ikaeoaaiyia wkkk ika property U raa**' 1 *, ,ie,„f ikota ralermail UafIvra la t publicyaarue MIX- ' Tiaai la ika day of aala. mttttaL * JudROES mini h««l ft • Motion,on the *r*lTu«>« •ftle.fttth® nl«c« nfputi- ^ . i.Tfcn county WHMW»U»*»Ufj|, of A4winl'trft ^iSSuMbli >«»r k*H b*#M frftttUd, Aral fivinp 8IXTY t horool,ii> onftoftHft pftblifif ns«U®aofthia 8tft(e,ftNdal i^ili<Court-houNiVtiiHiMli aftloaftroto he held. oliMfer (he of Peraoftftl Preforty, .nuat beglveu in like men. ‘ iwAflf «Uv* prefioftato the dey of site. |he tlehto r a and Creditors of eu EaUte must be poblulied liffSlaSlVoatloaarm kemada lo Ike Coarl ofOrdiaary foi " ^lll.fsn, aluil hapakUakad far FOUR MONTHS. fd, |a.vo to aoll nEoRORS, moat ba publlahad for FOUR SflOikaforaaty ordar abaalala akall ba aiada Ikaraoa by the edT.’riaaifnr T.ottara of Adnlaiatralloa, mu«l ha pabliabad Mirly ^Jjdrdlwalaatoaflaia ailaaialitratiou, aaaalkly sis wear la—for dia- iSI| fr fd"fdr«c!oaa?a l, of'4orl|a«a mail ba |iobli«k«d Maalkfy far i ai.lO-fir Btlabhihla. lo.l papara, far Hr/all raae, #/l*r« *X_fdr enapalllat Hllaa froal Executor. or Admialatraton, "lira a B'>0'1 !>»• baan yivaa by the dacaaaad, Ike f*U space •/ tkree Mdliatiaatwill alarayabaaoatlnaed aecoidlny lo llieae.lbclegnl Jalramaata,'luleaaolbarwiaa ardarad haiiien a flhlakladcoalUuaatoraeeiveprompt attain Ion alllio il, of Ibo OEORQIA JOURNAL. aEMITTANCBS BY MAIL— 14 A poatmaolor may aneloao aioaoy alattar t« Ibapabliahar of a aewanapar.to nay the aobicriplioii ora lid narMB.andfraakthalaUar.lfarrUtenby blmaelf.’*—^aiorAea- POETICAL. JM THE ILLUMINATED MAGAZINE FOR APRIL.] the pilgrim harper. BT SAMUEL LOVER. The night was cold and dreary— No star was in the sky, When, travel-tired and weary, The harper raised his cry; He raised bis cry without the gate, His night repose tofrin, And plaintive was the voice that cried “An, won’t you let me in ?** The portal soon wss opened, For in the land of song The minstrel at the outer gate Yet never lingered long, And inner doors were seldom closed *Gainat wand’rers such as he, For locks or hearts to open soon, Sweet music is the key. But if Rates are ope’d by melody, So grief can close them fast, And sorrow o’er that once bright hall Its silent spell had cast; All undisturbed the snider there Ills wob might safely spin, For many a day, no festive lay— No harper was let in. But when this harper entered, And said he came from far, And bore with him from Palestine The tidings of the war, And he could tell of all who fell, Or glory there did win, The warder knew his noble dame Would letfAof harper in; They lc The lady knelt in prayer; The harper raised a well-known lay l?non the turret stair: The door was ope’d with hasty hand,— True love its meed did win, For the lady saw her own true knight, When that harper was I et in! MISCELLANEOUS. HK CARNIVAL j OR THE MOCK MARRIAGE. A TALE. I It was the gay season of Carnival. The streets of Vienna were thronged with molly processions ; nd music and the merry laugh, and the voice of pleasure, were substituted for the hum of com merce, the serious tones of business, and the voice of care. The city had put on its holiday suit and mirth and revelry reigned from hall to hovel. Night came, and the streets were filled with mask, era, on their way to various places of amusement. The gorgeous hall of the hotel de 1’Empereur, was lighted up with the splendour of noon, and its aven ues were thronged with the carriages and the ca. Isehes of the elite; and the graceful and stately women in masks, and noble appearing men in rich costumes, alighted from them, and ascended the broad stair to the hall, to which they were directed by the sound of music and revelry that gaily reach ed their ears; Beside the door stood marshals to receive the swords of the gentlemen, and at the same lime, according to the usual regulations, com- mending each, as he passed into the hall, to lift his or her mask; the object of the first being to pre. vent blood shedding in any chance quarrel: that of the latter to see that no improper persons enter ed. ‘Nay, Sieur Marshal, thou shalt not have my sword,- nor by mine honor, will I lift my mask at any man's bidding!’ These were the words spoken by a tall but evi dently youthful masker, representing a Venitian cavalier; The elegant and graceful costume dis played his fine person to advantage, while his lofty and haughty carriage gave an air of truth to the as sumed character, for never a cavaliero of Venice carried himself with a nobler bearing. He wore r splendid rapier at his thigh, and his face was concealed in a black silk viser. A snowy plume depending from his left shoulder, from which his scarlet mantle silvered with embroidered flowers, fell gracefully as low as his breast. On his arm hung a graceful female figure, slight of form, but with a proud carriage. She wore the costume of a noble Venitian lady, and was masked with a half visor of silk, which left exposed a chin and throat of the most exquisite beauty. The voice of the cavalior, as he answered the marshal was arrogant and defying. The corridor without was thronged with maskers, waiting to en ter, and regarding with surprise and curiosity the extraordinary scene. ‘Nay; then, monsieur, replied the marshal, plac ing his sword across the entrance, ‘tliou shult not pass.’ *1 will not be stayed by a servitor of the hall! Stand aside,* answered tho cavulior fiercely; and he drew his sword and struck down the weapon that opposed his passage. * Ho ! Its gens Warms \ Ho* the guard!’ shout, ed the marshal, and the crowd without. ‘Arrele vout. Monsieur,’ challenged a second marshal within the door, placing the point of his •word at his breast. But Die bold cavalier struck it aside, and passing into the hail, mingled with the throng of maskers before lie could be arrested, and when tiie gens d'arms, arrived lie was not lo be dis covered with the strictest search. Half au hour had elapsed, and a monk of the Ca puchin order came lo the door of the ball and up. plied for admittance. His cowl was down and his fentures invisible. ‘Lift up your mask good fullior,* said the mar shal. 'Nay, tlio rule applies not tome; masks only are to be lifted,’ unswored the capuchin. ‘But dost thou not call a cowl a mask! It sure* ly is or thou art not a true monk and can have no business here.' '1 have business here and cannot bo delayed : stand usido my son !' The marshal awed by ilia voice and manner, in. •tinctively drew aside, and tlio monk entered, and was lust to tho eye of the bewildered marshal in the crowd of maskers. II. 1 lie scone is in tho imperial pnlnco ; the Empe ror is alone in his audience chamber, about the hourof masquerate. His brow is troubld, and he pates up and down the apartment with liis hands bohind him. lie suddenly stops and summons a page. •Send M—— Iliilier. VOL. XXXV- 1 lie order bud hardly been issued, and the page had not quitted tho presence when his minister sent in requesting an audience. •Admit him. Well, M , what now ?’ lie said when the pngo departed, and closed the door lead, ing into tho anti-room. ‘Your manner indicates haste ; any moro of this mad youth's pranks ?’ ‘I urn surry to say that he is again the subject of my visit to your imperial highness.’ •Out with it, 1 have lost all patience with him. If he escapes again, ho shall bo shot. I will give the soldiers instructions to fire upon him !’ This would be impolitic, your highness, nnd bring the censure of all Europe upon you .’ I would not care so lie wero out of it: But ivlial have you now ?’ ‘He has again eluded the vigilance of his keep ers, and has fled from the gardens; but has not left tho city. I huve mude evory inquiry, and par lies are secretly on search.' 1 will have Colonel shot for his neglect. How happened this?’ demanded the Emperor in a fierce tone of displeasure. He was suffered to walk in the grounds, as usu al, ul four this afternoon, with tlio usual precaution of a soldier following him, and a porter sentinel. By some means ho suddenly vanished from the sol dier and sentinel as if he had dissolved into air. The men hastened lo tlio spot, pursued every ave nue, and hunted the inclosure in vain. One of them, then satisfied of his prisoner s escape, turn ed his musket upon himself and blew out his brains.' ‘He did wisely, nnd only anticipated with his own hand the work another would soon have done.— What of his fellow?’ Ho came trembling to Colonel , and told the truth that no farther time might be lost in the seatcli after him. He was placed under arrest and Col -■ reports that at once every means were set on foot to discover the fugitive.” And without success?’ Not wholly, your majesty. After night closed in, and Col. could yet learn nothing of him, he waited on me with his repoit.’ And you placed him under arrest ?’ said the Emperor, sternly. No, your highness ; Ids liberty was necessary fur the present, to aid in prosecuting the search.’ As soon as you leave me, issue nn order for his arrest.’ Your majesty shall be obeyed; but may it please your highness to hear mo farther. While he was with me a person was announced, who came in guarded by two soldiers, who had reported in the street that ho saw a man descend the garden wall by means of a grape vine, where a Capuchin friar met him, and hurried him away.’ A Capuchin ! I will raze their monastery for this treason. What said the fellow farther?’ Nothing that we could act from with any cer. tainty. 1 then made no delay, but hastened to ac quaint your majesty with what occurred.’ And you have done it as quietly as if you had come to tell me the young prince’s squirrel had broke his cage and taken flight. This is no light matter.’ ‘I am aware of the importance attached to the safe custody of this young man.’ ‘The peaco of Europe nothing less. How now, sir, page ?’ ‘General, the Count , desires an audience with your majesty on a matter of moment.’ ‘This may touch upon this affair, M admit him. But how can he have heard of this escapo ? If it is known that he has escaped and is still in the city, the hiding closets in Vienna will be open for him. Let it be kept only among the soldiery on duty. Good even,’ Count 1 What tidings bring you that you come at this hour, and in this hurried guise into our presence ?’ ‘I beg your majesty’s pardon ; a father’s anxie ty, which can give little leisure to pay deference lo time and costume. I havo come hither to solicit your majesty’s aid in finding my daughter, for she cannot yet have left the city. During my absence from homo two hours ago, she fled, leaving this note, that before 1 beheld hor again she should be the bride of the man who had long held her heart.’ ‘Then ’twill bo a happy bridal! But I will jest not with this grief, we have ours also. Saw no one the flight! Suspect you no one V ‘1 do not, your highness. Slio never had an at tachment—for she is very young, save for one per son, and it cannot be he.' •And who was he?’ demanded the Emperor, quickly. ‘Tho youthful French Prince, your majesty’s protege. They often met in childhood and occa sionally since.’ ‘And he, and no one else, has run away with your daughter!’ cried the Emperor. ‘We have just had intelligence of his escape; It is plain en ough, now, thnt Colonel has been out gener ated. Love nnd a woman. If thy daughter bo taken, she stands a chance of being arrested as a traitor, Cuunt.’ HI. Wo will go back to a period still prior to the night of the carnival. The cruel imprisonment ol young Napoleon by the Austrian Government, is well known to the world, and has, perhaps, more deeply moved the sympathies of tho young of all nations, thun tlio fate ofany other living personage. During this imprisonment, when at the age of 17, ho was detained for weeks at a monastery, the gar den of which joined that of the castle of General Count , who had an only daughter, at the uge of fourteen, who often camo to the barriers, and by tiio indulgence of his keepers, talked with the prince ; for she knew his story, nnd felt for his sad fate. They thus became acquainted ; and the prince from being grateful, becurne deeply enamor ed with tlio beautiful, generous hearted girl, who, in many ways, secretly tried to soften the rigor of his imprisonment. After the prince was removed, on this very account, to closer qunrters in the city, this young maiden deeply interested her conies, sor in his fute. Three years passed on, during which interval, by accident, she had twice met the young Napoleon, nnd they had interchanged glances. It was enough. Each felt they were be loved. At length, the maiden resolved to make u bold effort to effect his escape.—Father she knew to be her firm friend, and a friend also of the fortunate prince, for he had been in Bonaparte’ „.mv. To him she committed hor plans. Tru< to her confidence in him, ho promised to second her wishes. He succeeded in corrupting tho prince’s confessor so far as to make him u medium of cor respondent botweon tho two lovers. This corres ponxlcnce continued for some lime.whon tlio prince declared his passion, and his desire to be united with her. He wus now twcniy.one,she seventeen and both wore beautiful ; lie tall nnd manly sho lovelv as womanhood in its full spring time. But how should ho cscapo ? how should they meet ? how should they be united ? how should they afterwards fly l These were obstacles induod ; but love is pow erful and will prevail. At lei gth circumstances favored them. A masquerade was to take place the third night of the carnival, and this suggested »n idea to her mind. Sho sought her confessor, and through him her plan was made known to the prince, who had tho day before in a note written, •Whenever you cau find shelter for mo without, 1 feel confident of being able to elude my sentinels. It it not so difficult to escape from the garden us to MILLEDGEVILLE, TUESDAY, JUNE 11, 1844. NO. 37- elude observation in the street ; for my porson is known to every soldier in the city, for once a month, my good relative tho emporor passes them In re view, or rather mo in review before them, at the balcony. I havo discovered a tree which I can easily ascend (having been practising it seemingly for exercise) from which extends a lateral limb, which touches another growing from another tree. Along this, I can reach the branch of n third tree, and so, a fourth and fifth, till the last limb brings me within reach of the wall, which is a hundred feet distant from the first tree. lean pass along those limbs, if 1 can leap unobserved into the tree, entirely concealed by the .foilage. This way, if any, affords me means of escape.’ It has been seen thnt he availed himself of it with singulnr success. This is the note in roply to his which led him to make the attempt •• ‘My noble friend will avail himself of the means lie lias expluined, when he next walks in the gar den nt four P. M. A Capuchin will receive him and conduct him to the monastery which is ciose at hand. There he will ascertain what further touches his safety.’ The prince, on lotting himself down from the wall, was harried by the monk into tho court of the monastery, and conducted to his cell.—There, to his surprise, the prince beheld the disguise of a Venitian cavalier, which a note from the daughter of Count , desired him to assume. He obeyed, nnd then looked lo the monk for further instruc. lions. ‘Is it your highness’ desire to bo wedded to the maiden who has facilitated your escape ?’ askod tho monk. That would only complete the happiness of this hour of freedom,’ ho answered warmly.—Our hearts are one, father ; why may not our hands be?’ ‘Then hear the plan arranged for this consum. motion. To-night is the grand masqurade at tho hotel de l’Emporeur. It is planned that you ac company tlio young Countess thither, she is in the costume of a noble Venitian ladv. There, I which, added in his grief at the separation from his lovely and devoicd wifo, soon wore upon his spirit and health ; and in a few months afterwards he died a captive. The Princes Nitonne, who had implored lo share his captivity, and Imd been forei- bly borne from danger by the faithful ofiicors, on hearing of his death, gavo birth to a son, and sur rendered up her life. This child tlio grandson of Napoleon, still lives not far from Paris, a treasure dearly guarded and cherished by those who, disap pointed in their hopes of his father, look forward to the day, not far distant, when Franco shall once more rule the nation under tho.deslinylof a Napo. Icon.— Court Journal. shall bo present ; and during tho various scenes that take place there,for the amusement of tho guests, you shall come up to mo, and gaily propose to be united to tho lady, for the entertainmont of the company. 1 will then proceed and go through the marriage ceremony, which shall solemnly unite you.’ ‘This is well conceived, and may succeed.” said the prince .’ but how shall I meet with the fair Countess Nitenne ?’ Come with me,’ answered ihe Capuchin, lead ing tho way along the shadow of the corridor to a postern, which he opened und passed through. A fow minute’s walk through tlio streets, which were filled with maskers, among whom they at. traded no particular attention, brought them into n lano in the rear of tho gardens of tho General Count . ‘Wait hero a few moments, your highness,’ said the Capuchin, unlocking a private gate, and disap pearing in the garden. Before the prince had timo to grow impatient, the monk ro-appeared, leading the Countess Ni- lenne, whom young Napoleon ardently clasped to his heart. In a minuto afterwards, a carriage, which tho monk provided, came up, and getting in to it, they drove to the Hotel de ’lEmpereur, leav ing tho monk, who said he would soon follow. •Your highness will not remove your mask dur ing the evening,’ ho added to the prince, os he took his leave. ‘No,’ answered the princo, firmly. IV. ‘There is to be a mock marriage in tho other part of tho saloon,’said soveral of tho maskers; and a general movement was made towards that quarter, to witness it. In the midst stood the Venitian cavalier and the lady, both masked ; but both striking, from the grace and dignity of their persons and carriage. Near them stood the Capuchin. A marble pedestal was converted into an alter, by placing upon it n crucifix and candles snatched from the candelabra. •Kneel children,’ said the Capuchin, solemnly. They knelt, nnd the monk proceeded to go through the service, while all the crowd stood around, observing it as they would a scone in a play. V. The Emperor and his minister, Motternich, and General the Count , were still together when n messenger announced an officer of the guard.— tie was admitted. Pardon your majesty—but if tlio prince Na- polenn has not escaped, there is in Vienna, a per. son whoso voice and carringe are his own.’ Wlmt mean you?’ ‘Of whom do you speak?’ A mask, attired as a Venitian cavalier, who en tered the hall a few moments since, as I was loi tering near. He refused to lift his visor and fore, ed his way in, with a lady on his arm, also masked and habited as a Venitian. Hi9 resemblance in voice und air to the prince, induced me lo hasten hill or and inf r.n your majesty.’ You have done well. Col. Necker. I give you my commands lo take with you sufficient means, and arrest and bring beforo mo this cavalier.— Haste, and return soon, with him and tho lady in custody. Mellernich, you will also accompany him. It must be our own flown bird:’ And lie is silly as a bird, to appour thus publicly I will soon ascertain who this cavalier is, your highness.’ VL The ceremony of marriage was ended, and tlio priest was pronouncing his benediction, when commotion was apparent in the oilier part of tho hall, near tho door, and tho throng gavo way in before the stride of Motternich and tho officers of the imperial police. “Wlmt means all this ?’ demanded Motternich of a general officer, as ho came near. ‘A mock marriage, prince ; but by tho mass, the priest,has done it with a grace and unction as if he were in right earnest. There stand tlio happy couple, who wero the Capuchin not a priest in masquorndo are as safely tied ns ever wero made man and wife !’ ‘There ore the two, Baid Col. Necker. ‘It is he ! arrest them ! also the Capuchin.’ The prince resisted and drew his sword. In the melee, his mask fell oir, and betrayed to all eyes the well known features of the captive prince.— There was a general utterance of surprise, und a fueling of deep interest ? Simultaneously, several of tho maskers made a movement sous to obstruct the police, and favor liis escape. He was soon separated from Prince Motternich and Col. Necker and before the mass could bo penetrated, the bride, groom and brido Imd been assisted by two French ofiicors out of the hull into a carriage. Several of the goiulemen sprung upon tho box and footboard, and it drove with rapidity to a distant pnrl of the citv, were tlio prince and his bride were soon in suftcy in u retired mnnsion near tlio walls, occupi. ed by a French officer. Hero they remained many a month secretod while overy means wero set on foot by the emporor for their discovery, and at the same timo plans were constantly forming by their friends for getting them out of the city, At length their retreat was discovered. The prince was arrested, but his wife escaped in dis. guise, und reached Paris. Ills confinement wus now moro rigorous than before ; the severity of Going to Auction—Willis, in liis own amus ing way, shows up one reason of attending auction sales as follows, and moralizes also upon the sucri- 3ogo of exposing the treasures of the sanctum, Boudoir, and bed-room to tho vulgar gaze : One of tlio favorite Spring amusements of the people of New York, is, to attend the auction sales at private houses. Wo heard of one honest wo. man, who, on being rallied a day or two since at having so passed the last fortnight, said, “La ! it’s so amusing to see how people live !’’ And, truly enough, you may find out by this process how eve. ry class ‘‘furnishes." which is a considerable feat, ure of living, and it is wonderful with how little cer emony and reluctance tho household gods are strip ped to the skin and exposed to the gaze of a public invited in by tho red flag of an auction 1 It is pos sibly a very natural feature of a now country to have no respect for furniture. But to our notion, it comes close after “honor thy fathor and mother” to honor the chairs and tables at which they Imvo eat en and prayed, counselled and blessed. And even this wore easier got over—the selling of the moro mahogonv and damnsk—if the articles were moved to a shop and dissociated from tho places where they had become hallowed. But, to throw open sacred boudoirs, more sacred bed-rooms, breakfast rooms, bath-rooms, in which (as had been the caso once or twice lately) lovely and cherished women have lived, and loved, and been petted and scclud. ed and caressed—to let in vulger and prying curi- osity to sit on the damask seats and lounge on the THE FIRST LOAF. An emergency nt last came in my domestic ar rangements for which I was wholly unprepared, des. pile the admonitory warnings of all good house keepers, to be prepared when such do occur, ns oc- cur they must, in these days of help wanting. An excellent girl had gone, and her place was supplied by one who I felt, when I beheld her, could never answer that description which had induced mo to engage. She stood demurely before me, awaiting hor now instructions. “You can mnko somo bread, Nancy; now I want you to sill some flour and set some rising.” “How shall 1 make it 7 That never was my work before, hut you will tell mo how, ma’am, nnd I can learn quick,” was the reply; and the anxious, yet willing expression of hor face, bespoke a tench, able spirit us '.t also did nn inexperienced hand. Heavily did that nnswer (all upon my ear—“ A«u> shall 1 make it ?” Yes, that was the question, how ? What a world of experience and power did that lit tle word comprehend. I remember my mother talked of “settling tho sponge,’’ placing it in ti warm situation, baking it when it was just enough raised; these snatches of information 1 well remembered, hut the right quantity, quality and number of ingre dients, with the just how they should ali bo put to gether, was tho still unanswered question. There stood Nancy. “Upon the whole,” said I, after a moment’s thoughtful pause, “as there is so much that is more important to do, we will put this mut ter otV nnd try baker’s bread,” and I fell thankful for the respite. Days passed on. “Cannot Nancy make broad ?” asked toy Inis, hand, nt lost," I am getting quite tired of baker’s bread.” “She shall make some; hut this is beautful ba ker’s bread, Goorge. I don’t know hut it is nicer titan nny home-made bread I over ate,” I replied in a most recommendatory tone, taking another slice which 1 did not want. "There is nothing liko good homo-mado bread, such as my mother used to make.” To tho first part oi'this remark, 1 did not materially object, in. as much ns it vvns secretly my own opinion; but when ho suggested nn equality with his mother's bread, which nothing in Ids estimation ever excell. of heart us my own con- plies prudence, sagacity Rod experience in i tic duties; end let no one enter into thnt Impot ent and most interesting reltUon with untried pow- urs end unskilful bends. Timing it.—A minister in the Highland* of Scotland, found one of his parishioners intoxicated. The next day he called to reprove him for it. •It’s very wrong to get drunk,' said the dominie- •1 ken that.’said the guilty person,‘but then I tliuna drink ntcikle as yuu do !* •What, sir! how is that?’ asked tho Other in surprise. •Why, gin it please yc,’ continued the other‘din- nn yc aye luk a glass o’ whiskey and water after dinner ?’ ‘Why, yes, Jemmy, lobe sure, 1 lake a little whiskey after dinner, merely to aid digestion!’ ‘An (linna ye tak a glass o’ whiskey toddy every night beforo gang to bed ? 'Yes, to be sura, I just take a little toddy at night to help tnc to sleep !’ ‘Weel,’ continued the parishioner, ‘that’s jist fourteen glasses a week, nn about sixty every month. I only get paid ofi’once a month, and then if I ’el take sixty glasses, it would make me deed drunk for a week ; now ye see the only difference is, ye time it better than 1 do !’ This is pretty much the view most people take of this mutter; a tnodointe drinking clergyman may talk to his drunken parishioner till doomsday, but he will never multo him a sober man, so long us he drinks himself, Sally St. Claik.—The Heroine of the Revolts, lion.—The fate ofthis beautifull Creole girl wa* lamented. She loved Sargent Jasper, who once in tho bloody conflicts of tho South saved her life. Al tho time when she saw a seperulion from him was m prospect her feelings were intense. To sever her long jetty ringlets, says a writer of the talcs of Marion, to dress in male attire, to enrol herself in the corps to which ho bolonged and f»? low his fortunes in tho wars ; a resolution no ooner conceived taken than. On the night bending over his couch liko a good and gentle spirit, ne If listening to his dreams. A fierce conflict ensu ed—the lovers fought side by sido in the thickest of the fight ; but endeavoring to turn away a lanco aimed at the heart of Jasper, the poor girl received it in her own and fell bleeding nt liis feet. Her sox was discovered after the battle, and there was not a dry eye in tlio corps when Sally St. Clair was laid in her grave, near tho river Santee, in a green shady nook that looked ns if it had been stolen out of l’lirudisc. Tho love of such a maiden is as sacred as the angel’s, tho greatest prizo that could over win, and what in tiicso days we fear, is seldom known.—Cin. Com. silken sofas, nnd breath the air impregnated with perfume that could betray the holiest secrets if it i ed, 1 fell a sud shrinking had a tongue—and stand by while the auctioneer; scious inability of attainin' chatters and describes and tempts the vulgar nppe- j “May you be blessed with just such nil appetite ns tile lo buy ! Why, it seems lo us scarce loss fin. j you Imd, when n boy, you ate your mother’s htead!” grant and atrocious than tho ride of Lady Godivtt j was my inward benediction, as lie uioso ;o return desecrating to thoso who sell on, nnd n profanity of | to his afternoon business. Sometimes I thought of licence in thoso who go to see 1 Libf.rai.itv of tiie Apfghans.—There is a po. enliurity in the character of the Affgtmns, however noticed above, which no have upon tho authority of Mr. Masson and others, and which deserves par ticular and honorable mention ; and that is. their comparative freedom from religious bigotry. In the majority of Mahommedan countries, tho inhabi tants generally will not sit down to moat with u Cltristnin : ho is regarded as unclean, nnd to salute him, even by mistake, is considered an unlucky circumstance. In Cubool, nn the contrary, tho be liever in Christianity is respoctfully styled at Kitabi, or “one of tlio book,” and it is said of the Vizier Futteh Khan, when, as would sometimes happen, an Armenian Christian presented himself, desiring to become a convert to lslamism, that ho was wont to inquire wlmt defect ho had discovered in his own religion llmt he should wish to change it? and would further remark, that thoso porsons who possessed “a hook," or written system of faith, and yet wished to adopt a new creed wero scoundrels, actuated by n lovo of gnin, or some other interested motive. To the Hindoo, however, who might wish to enter the Muhommod. an church, he, on the contrary, made no objection, but applauded him, who, having, ns ha considered, no religion, was anxious to embrace one.—History of the War in Affglmnistati. Hard Times.—All trades, professions, callings and avocations, one lime or other loudly complain of the dullness of trade. The fishmonger is obliged to give his maul notice to seek another pla(i)ce, w hile tho muscles of his physiognomy nre wofuljy relaxed llmt scarcely a soul (sole) is now seen in his once well attended shop, and that he shall certainly /launder if things go on at this lamentable rate. The Tailor talks, too, of taking other measures, and finds thnt the art of cutting, which he profess, es, is unhappily only useful to hint when he “spies a dun or a creditor.” The poor Washer-women are most paradoxical ly situated, having nothing to do—and yet declare thatthoy “oil in the suds," and vow that they have not touched a copper the douce knows when ! No currier has a tanner wherewith to help him self. Tho linen draper slicks up liis tempting an. noun cement of“An Immense Sacrifice,’’and tickets his decoy patters in vain, busily hustling behind his countor, nnd looking for a counteraction with a hope less sigh. And he may now confidently warrant his cheapest prints not to run, for they will not go at any rate. The plumber is all in the dumps, and gives it as his opinion that all trade is at an end ; at least he is led to conclude so. The paper-maker says trade is stationary. The milliner—very so so indeed. The porte r/a(. The gardener that his time hangs on his hands. The shoemaker (with a yawn)—llmt ho nover knew such long quarters—although ho can’t pay his rent when it becomes duo. Origin of tiie word “Texas.”—It 1ms exceed. confessing our dilerna. Had it been the first week of our marriage, it had all been well; ho would have smiled at my experience; hut we had unfortunate- ly been married sometime; and, however lovely inefficiency and want of skill may appear in a lady love or a brido, it assumes quite a different aspect, when not to know is inexcusuliel ignorance. “O, I can’t do that,” could no longer he viewed in the light of maiden timidity, or delicate helplessness; beside, savored too little of “liis mother,” who was a pattern house-keeper. But the bread must he made. I arose one mor ning feeling quite cool and courageous, and resolv ed tlmt day to attempt it. “1 will begin with pearl, ash broad; that I am sure will ho easiest and much Icsslroublo. So upon pearl-ash bread I was deci ded. With what deep nnd earnest interest did I pre pare my flour, milk, salt nml pearl.ash.—With what anxiety did I mix these important ingredients together. “1 will have pearl-ash enough,” thought I “I am determined it shall he light,” and another spoonful was quickly added. The bread was made the pans were ready, the fire kindled, and at last it was satisfactorily deposited in the well heuted oven. I look my sent beside the stove to watcli its pro. gross. How anxious wus 1 to see it rise. How readily did I remember the round, plump aspect of my mother’s loaves. Time passed on and despite my watchful inspection and ardent whisltes, it was still fiat, fiat, fiat I It grew beautifully brown, but there it lay, so demure, so unaspiring. Dinner came, mid my husband walked in with a friend or two lo dine, as, in hospitality of his heart, he often did. I extended a welcome hand, but 1 am sure my burnt face and disquieted look wero tell-tales of n heart not particularly glad to see them. We.sat down at table ; the mackerel was well- broiled, the potatoes well done, the hatter was melt ed, but the bread—the bread ! the article above all, which my husband considered most important, which he considered indispensable to be good—it was bunded round—be took a slice ; it certainly did not resemble bread, Illicitly studded ns it was with little brown spots of undissolved perl-nsb ; and then how it tasted ! a strange mixture of salt and bitter, which was altogether unbearable. My husband looked surprised and mortified, und bow did I feel? “Is there no other?” ho looked significantly at me. 1 shook my head, while he involuntarily removed the unpalatable slice afar from liis plute. How little did 1 enjoy society ol my agreeable guests. How distunt did 1 wish thorn ; uny 'where hut nt my own table. “Had you better not attend to the broad making yourself, Mary,” said George, as soon as we wero alone, “and not leave that most important part of cooking to such miserably inexperienced hands 7” There was a decision in his gentlu touo which I well knew to give me no choice in the matter, and 1 saw that he little imagined tho "miserably inex perienced hands” upon which lie hud laid such strong emphasis on were neither more nor less than my own ; and it did nut afford mo much consola tion, that ho expected belter things of tno. I went away und wept heartily and humblywith Cold Affusion in Poisoning nv Prussic Acid. —At the mooting ol English Chemist, hold at Sunderland, Dr. Robinson mude tho following ex periment in the presence of his colleagues. He look two rabbits, und poured on the longues of each four drops of Prussic Acid. Tho effect was instantaneous. They fell down apparently dead, lie now applied the antidote. Cold water, con taining u mixture uf saltpetre nnd common snit, was poured on their heads nnd along the spine. The rabbits wero instantly resusticutod, and in a fow minutes hopped about with their usual brisk- ness. It thus appears tlmt very cold water is nn admirable means of restoring tlio power of tho muscles, where it lias been destroyed by tho poi. ingly puzzled many persons to determine the real j ( |,j s pjnf u | lamentation, “wlmt shall 1 do ! ’ There meaning of the word Texas. It originated in the stood the piano. What availed ail the lime, talent piano. and industry, which had long been spent upon learn | ing a few tunes ? It added not an iota to the real comfort of my household. Handsome worsted j work adorned our parlor. O that 1 could recall nn I hundredth part of the lime spent with the embroid- I ury needle and repass it, in thoroughly and skilful ly acquiring the important arts of housewifery couplet used by tlio earlier emigrants to that “lund of promise.” * “When every oilier land rejects ns, This is the soil that freely takes us." The word Texas is a corruption of the phrase in the last line.—Cincin. Rep. Simple mode of FuRtFyiNG Water.—It is not so generally known as it ought to be, that pounded j Front that moment 1 resolved to study into my do alum possesses the property of purifying water, mostic duties ; not lightly and loosely, as if they A table spoonful of pulverized alum, sprinkled into were small matters, easily gotten over but 1 ro. a hogshead of water, (the water stirred at the time,) solved to know how, to become a skilful, economi- will after a lapse of a few hours, by precipitating , cal, thrifty hottse-kepor. Upon success in litis, to the bottom the impure particles, so purify it will how much of happiness depends. When I have bo found to possess nearly all the freshness nnd | cut my sweet, light, wholesome loaves, there still clearness of the finest spring water. A puil full, lingers the sad remembrance of tho pain, the finx. containing four gallons, may be purified by a sin. j iety, nay, tho mortification of my first efforts ; glo teaspoon full. Fact.—There are some folks who wiito, talk with no one to advise, and no one to aid me. Mine was n long and wearisome probation in bread muk- and think so much on virtue, that they have no i tJ>g-R»d nil because I lightly esteemed these great time to practise it. duties, when time nnd opportunity were Ireely uf- “Havo you read Cass’ Texas letter V fered under n mother’s eye. s—and a HtatcHman such as he, Would show his character Ihe better To write his uaoio without the C.” Providence Journal. Nicely Caught.—A Western editor was recent, ly requested to send his paper to a distuut patron, provided he would tuke his pay “in trade.” At the expiration of the year he found thnt his now sub scriber was a cojjin maker. Tup. Little State of Delaware lias a surplus of $510,132 03 in her treasury, exclusive of 05 shares U. Bank stock, considered worthless par alues $0,500. Lot not young ladies look upon these duties us menial, or of slight importance. A household can not be woll ordered nnd happy unless they tiro faithfully nnd intelligently understood. Lot no wo man imagine that a husband's comfort, enjoyment or prosperity, depends alone upon the smiles nnd ornaments of his parlor. It is skilful and judi cious management in the kitchen which does so much toward home pleasant und prospects bright. Let every young lady who expects to becomo a wife (and who dues not ?) look well to these things before sho leaves the maternal care. Let her re member, that to become truly a “help, meet,” im. Tub atm ent of the sma i.l pox.—Dr. Cox, through the medium of the Cincinnati Gazette,culls tho at tention of the medical profession on tho subject of the small pox, and states, ns the effect of tin exten- ive experience which lie lias hud of its treatment various modifications, tlmt it may not only be abbreviated in the timo it has usually taken to nn its course of incipient, eruptive, suppurative, ind desquamative fevers, but tlmt the suppuration nay bo arrested, nml nil tho swelling of thuextremi- ins prevented by the timely application of chloride ,f lime. The doctor .suys tlmt by following the reposed totredy, the pitting and scarring of a rent many pretty laces may be prevented—many aluablo lives saved—andthis disease, so general- y dreaded, rendered as barm less us any of the mple epidemic disonscs of Ihe country. A journeyman printer luloly set out on foot for he interior of Ohio a distance of five hundred miles ilh an old bruss rule, and three dollars cash, in is pocket. He soon found himself in Ponnsylva. iu, nnd being weary called nt the inn of a Dutch- mn, who ho found quietly smoking his pipe, when m following dialogue ensued. •Veil, Mishtor Vulltii.g Stltick, vat you vant 7’ ‘Refieshment nnd repose.’ ‘ Supper and Lodgings, 1 reckon.’ ‘Yos, sir, supper and lodgings.’ ‘Po you n Yankee pedler, mit chowelty in your ack to client to gals.’ •No sir; no Y’ankeo pedler.’ ‘A singing teacher, too lazy to vovko ?’ •No sir.’ ‘A checntccl shoemaker, vot stchays till Satur. lay night, nnd, luysh down in de porch ofer Sun* lay 7’ •No, sir, or I should havo monded my boots be- or this. But I am not disposed longer to submit i this outlandish inquisition. Can you givo me upper and lodgings ?’ ‘Torokly. But vot ha you ? A hook aclient ta. ting honest people’s money for a little lamin’ that mlv make cm lazy ?’ ‘Try again your worship.’ ‘A dentist, breaking lo people’s clmws at a lol. htr a schtmg, and running off mit old Shambock’s daughter?’ ‘No, sir, no tooth puller.’ ‘A Kernulojus. don, feeling to young folks hods liko ns many cubbitelt, and charging 25 cents for telling their fortuns, liko a blam’d Yankee.' •No, no phrenologist, neithor your Excellency.’ ‘Veil den, vot de liflo nre you 7 Clioost tell, and on shall huve some of do best sassage for sup* ,or, and stchny all night free gratis milout clmrg- og you cent, mit u chill of whiskey to stliart on before breakfast.’ •Very well your honor. To terminate tho col. .iquy without furlhur circumlocution, I am an hum. ,lc disciple of Faust—a professor of the art pre. irvtitive of all arts—a typographer, at your ser. ice !’ •Votscli dat ?’ ‘A printer, sir, a man that prints books and newt-. papers.’ •A man vot prints nooshpnpors ! Oh ! yaw ! aw ! By Choopiter—aye ! uyo ! Datsch it ! a man ■ ut prints nooshpnpers—yaw! yaw! Valk up, alk up, Mistber Printer! Clteems, lake de chen- leman’s pack of Chohn, pring somo junks to the .ire. A man vot prints noospupers' I visit I may. nu shot, if 1 didn’t think you vos a lawyer !* Cotton Bloom.—We wore presented a few days ago, with n cotton bloom, taken from Gen. Hamil ton’s Greenwood plantation. This is the first bloom wo Imvo soon this Spring, tho’ we are in. fur mod by a gentleman, that two weeks since, ho saw us many ns lit t oo on one stalk. A good Hunt.—Somo four or five of our citi zens, of the town and County, went out a few day* since on a hunting expedition, and killed fifteen Deer, five wild Steers, three Bears, one Panther, three Turkeys, and one Opossum ; and perhaps R few Gofers and Alligators were taken, though not reported.— Albany Courier. Hooks and Eyi*.—'The American invention for making this little ui tide lias reduced the price from 81 5U to 20 cents. At one establishment in New Britain, Conn., 80,000 to 100,000 pair per day nre made and plated by a galvanic battery, or what i* called the cold silver process. The value of this article consumed in the United States is said to bo $750,000 annually.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Georgia journal. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1809-1847, June 11, 1844, Image 1